


Dismissed

by Vera_dAuriac



Category: Queen of the South (TV)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Camila Tops the World, Lipstick & Lip Gloss, Multi, Oral Sex, Rough Oral Sex, Subbish!James, Teresa is along for the ride, Vaginal Fingering
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-15
Updated: 2019-10-15
Packaged: 2020-12-17 06:10:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,461
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21049610
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vera_dAuriac/pseuds/Vera_dAuriac
Summary: Camila needs someone to take care of her needs, and James is happy to comply. He's also OK when Camila asks Teresa in.





	Dismissed

**Author's Note:**

  * For [the100skypeople](https://archiveofourown.org/users/the100skypeople/gifts).

> So, I'm still working my way through Season 2, but this fic just ate my brain a couple nights ago, and I need to vomit it out. Takes place sometime in S1 when Teresa is still living at the warehouse.  
Thanks all for letting me come play in this fandom!
> 
> And I dedicate this to the the delightful woman who encouraged me to watch this show. :)
> 
> Oh yeah, I don't own these folks, but they kind of own me atm.

**by Vera d'Auriac**

He didn’t like to think this was his favorite part about working for Camila, but he knew anything else was bullshit. Normally so cold, so aloof, when Camila finally cracked and asked—no, demanded—to get what she needed, James longed to serve her more than at any other time. She couldn’t very well ask just anyone to sate her desires. As much as Epifanio screwed around, it would be different for his wife, and no man who dared put his tongue where James had his now would be safe if Epifanio found out. The fact she came to him for this, trusted him with this, turned him on as much as anything about their encounters.

They were usually so careful, given the consequences, but somehow today she had been too needy to wait for him to lock the door. Here at the warehouse, someone was likely to walk in at any moment, even here in the backroom Camila used, so they were lucky when someone knocked instead of coming straight in. He tried to pull his face away and stand up, but Camila with a firm yank of his hair, pushed his face deep between her thighs where she wanted him. He expected her to tell whoever it was to go away, but instead, she said, “Come in.”

He tried to pull away again—if Camila was suddenly feeling suicidal about the extra duties he performed for her, fine, but he wasn’t—but her nails dug into his scalp and her thighs clamped on either side of his face, and he had no escape. He loved this so much, smelling her, tasting her, making the most powerful woman he knew scream, but now he wondered if getting Camila off every now and then was worth risking his life. Probably not, but then again, maybe so. He flicked his tongue across her clit, wanting one final taste if this did end up being the last time.

“Thank you for coming,” Camila said, as if she had invited this person to join them, although he couldn’t figure out what game she might be playing. “Lock the door.” He heard the lock click, and he knew that he could manage the situation so long as only one person knew his secret. Now he just needed to see who it was that he would have to kill. “Did I tell you to stop?” Camila said, tugging his hair.

He felt exposed, something he hated in front of anyone but Camila, kneeling on the floor between her legs as she sat on the front edge of her desk, dress hiked up around her waist, panties clutched tight in his fist. But whatever game Camila was playing, he knew she had the upper hand as always, and he had no choice but to comply with her wishes. He licked the length of her opening, basking in the flavor that was uniquely Camila Vargas, and then went back to work on her clit.

Camila purred that deep, rough hum of hers that never failed to make him hard, even now with fuck only knew who else in the room. Normally he would be pawing at himself through his jeans, but that, at least, he skipped in deference to their company. And he could feel that company hovering just to his right. Finally, Camila loosened her grip with fingers and thighs just enough that he could move his head the fraction necessary to see who it was.

Teresa.

Somehow it didn’t surprise him, but it did make him even harder. Teresa wouldn’t say a word, her secrets and safety too linked with his and Camila’s, and with that worry gone, he could think about what it meant to have her here. She glanced down at him with that unreadable fucking face of hers, and all he wanted to know was whether or not she was as turned on as he was. For some reason, he wanted that very, _very_ much, Teresa the only woman he knew besides Camila who made him want to get down on his knees and serve.

“I like watching you, Teresa,” Camila said, leaning back, propping herself up with her hands just behind her on the desk. “And I think I’ve noticed…something in the way you look at James and me.” Her breath was growing ragged, and he knew she must be close, but he couldn’t guess if Camila would want him to speed up or slow down. He wanted it to go on and on, Camila talking to Teresa as if he were not here doing what they could all see and smell. He slowed down and licked around her clit instead of right on it. She petted him like he was a good dog performing a trick just like she had taught him.

He spared another look at Teresa, and she seemed to not know where to rest her eyes as they flickered between his face and Camila’s. Her face seemed a little flush, so he tipped his head back and stuck his tongue out as far as it would go so she could see exactly what he was doing. He thought she shivered a touch, but that might have only been his own excitement moving him. She took a deep breath, held it as she looked back at Camila.

It was an awkward angle, but he could make out the smile curving Camila’s full lips. “Yes. That’s exactly what I thought I saw,” Camila said just before she gripped Teresa hard by the back of the head and pressed their mouths together.

James forgot what he was supposed to be doing, forgot his own name, watching those women kiss. He stopped hesitating to touch himself, rubbed hard at his aching dick through his jeans with the hand holding Camila’s panties. Fuck, they were amazing, and he knelt there, panting, watching, aching, and wanting.

But Camila never forgot what she was about or what she wanted, more than capable of concentrating on more than one thing at a time. While she kept her hold on Teresa’s long hair with one hand, the other slipped back into his, and a firm yank had his mouth back where she wanted it. He longed to see them, but he also wanted Camila to come on his tongue, and more than that, he wanted Teresa to see it happen.

He put all his focus on her clit, throbbing and wet under him. He pressed with the flat of his tongue until she growled, then flicked the tip over and across, gaining speed as her grip on his hair tightened, telling him she was getting close. Almost there. Soon.

Camila started to growl like a mad predator, her mouth having broken free from Teresa’s at some point, but then the start of a scream was swallowed, and he wrapped his lips around her clit and sucked her through her orgasm. When she finally shoved him away, he rocked back on his heels, looked up, saw Camila panting into Teresa’s mouth. Her thick, vampire blood red lipstick was smeared across both of their mouths, cheeks, and chins. Camila never lost control even when she lost control, but at this moment, she looked utterly wrecked. He stroked her thigh with the hand that wasn’t pressing against his erection.

Camila kissed Teresa one more time, slow and open and wet, and Teresa returned the kiss, at least turned on by Camila if nothing else. But that still didn’t answer what she thought of him. Anyone would be turned on by Camila, but he desperately needed her excitement to extend to him.

“What do you think, Teresa?” Camila asked when she finally broke the kiss. “Has James done a good job? Does he deserve a reward?”

As she looked down at him, Teresa’s chest heaved liked she had just been running for her life. He could only imagine the picture he presented to her—pupils blown, hand pawing at his dick, Camila’s wet sticky in his beard. But somehow, she liked what she saw, and she answered a quiet, “Yes.”

James jumped to his feet and pulled Teresa close, kissing her like he had been longing to ever since he first saw her, all determination to prove herself to Camila. Her own kiss was hungry for him, for the taste of Camila on him, and he forced her stomach tight against his erection. He rubbed hard, kissed hard, gripped her back tight with fingers that longed to explore her. Camila shifted behind him, but she didn’t say to stop, and until she did, he never would.

“I think James would probably like your pretty little lips around him, Teresa. Am I right James?”

Only answering Camila’s vital question could have convinced him to break the kiss. “Yes,” he answered, peering down at the lips in question, still smeared with Camila’s lipstick and now also her cum. He pressed his lips together, knew he was now marked with Camila’s lipstick as well. He pulled Teresa’s body harder against his own, needing more friction. “Yes,” he repeated, thinking he saw a glimmer of agreement in Teresa’s eyes. “I want that.”

“I want to see that, too,” Camila answered, her dress back in place as she took a seat in the chair on the other side of the desk. “I want to see you fuck her sweet little mouth.”

Teresa tensed in his embrace, he didn’t know if from excitement or a change of heart now that Camila had set this specific rule. When he looked at her, her face had taken on its typical expressionlessness, and after the lust he had just seen there, he could only guess that maybe she was now worried. They had to do what Camila asked, but he also didn’t want to hurt her, never wanted that. He took her left hand in his right and rested it on his hip. He squeezed it there, let it go, petted his flank with it, all the while looking in her eyes to tell her she could touch him when she couldn’t speak to let him know she was okay. Her eyes became softer, and he had to believe she understood.

“Boots and pants off, James,” Camila ordered.

He stepped back, never breaking his gaze with Teresa, tossed Camila’s panties on the desk. He pulled off the left boot, then the right, taking his socks with them. Then he studied every nuance of Teresa’s subtle face as he opened his belt, unzipped his jeans, hooked his thumbs in the waistband of his boxer briefs so he could pull everything off at once. Teresa’s lips only parted fractionally, but from her, it was as good as an exclamation.

“He’s big, isn’t he?” Camila chuckled, and without looking at her, James knew Camila was staring at his dick. “I can’t be bothered with small men. Epifanio is huge. I think it’s the main reason I never leave him for good. But when I’m away from home, James is a nice stand in.”

Teresa didn’t answer, just stared, schooling her face to show no sign that she must see the precum glistening on his tip. He wanted to start, was more than ready to feel himself bumping against the back of Teresa’s throat, but he knew they could do nothing until Camila expressly said so. Still, he couldn’t stand there doing nothing any longer. It was stuffy in the room, and he made to shrug out of his jacket.

“Oh no, James. The jacket stays on,” Camila said. “I like the jacket. Now, Teresa, why don’t you lie back on the desk here with your head right next to me?”

It was technically phrased as a request, but no one in the room thought Teresa had a choice. She walked to the front of the desk, just to the side of where Camila had been sitting, where there was still a wet spot, and sat on the edge. Slowly, she lowered herself back, legs dangling toward the floor. James licked his lips and held his breath until Camila gave him orders.

Camila smiled down at Teresa and gently stroked her hair back from her face. “Up on the table, James,” Camila whispered, all the while smiling at Teresa. “You’re going to straddle her chest and then fuck her head through the table. Sound good to everyone?” She looked at them both with her wicked grin just daring them to say no.

Of course, neither of them said a thing, and James got on the table, knees either side of Teresa. He reached down, put her hand on his now bare hip. When their eyes met, he thought she looked ready, and he hoped she was. He didn’t want to hurt her, but if Camila insisted on it, he wasn’t sure what he would do. Teresa quickly turned her lips inward, and they came back shiny with spit. He wasn’t sure if he was supposed to wait for Camila to tell him to start, but he shifted into place, let the head of his dick rest against her lips for just a moment, then he pushed inside her.

Her mouth was warm and inviting, and at first, he moved slowly, letting her get used to him, letting himself adjust to the sensations instead of losing himself immediately. Teresa’s hand lightly rubbed along his hip, her tongue caressing the underside of his dick. It all felt so good, he knew he could end up coming down her throat any second, so he focused on his breathing and hers, his eyes closed against the intoxicating view of him in her mouth.

“That looks like it feels good. Does it feel good, James? Do you like Teresa’s mouth as much as you thought you would?”

He tried to exhale slowly, but he panted awkwardly before he answered. “Better. Fuck, but it feels even better.”

“Mmm,” Camila purred. “That’s good to know. Open your eyes and look at me.”

James’s eyes floated open, his mind and body already drifting off somewhere else, to the special place he only ever went with Camila. Her smile, still messy with smudged lipstick, slid off her face, replaced by a scowl that made him tremble. “We’re not here for your amusement. We’re here for mine. And I told you I wanted you to fuck her mouth until she can’t fucking breathe. I want her choking on it when you come. Do you understand me?”

“Of course, Camila,” James whispered. He patted Teresa’s hand once more on his hip to let her know he hadn’t forgotten her, even though he must now obey Camila.

He began by just picking up the speed of his thrusts, but not pushing in more of his dick than Teresa could take easily. Fuck, but it felt good, and he could have come from just doing that for a little longer, but he knew that wasn’t what Camila wanted. Teresa’s hand was still relaxed on his hip when he started thrusting deeper. She seemed okay, relaxed into the experience, mouth open, jaw loose, a vessel for him to use. But then Camila leaned in and said, “Harder. Fuck her harder. She can take it.”

And he did, and it felt even better when his dick hit the back of her throat over and over, her lips quivering around his shaft. He was losing himself when he felt her nails dig deep into his hip. It was only then that he looked down, saw Teresa, drool streaking through Camila’s lipstick, tears leaking from the corners of her eyes. He was shaking, but he adjusted the angle, hoping it would let her breathe just enough, not gag her beyond what she could take, for just a minute more, because he knew he wouldn’t last longer than that.

He found a new rhythm, her fingertips instead of her nails now clutching his hip, and he knew it wouldn’t be long. It was all so much, though, he could barely keep himself upright. His thighs quaked, he longed to slump over her, but that would choke her completely as sure as anything. They were saved by Camila. She pulled his face up to hers by his hair and kissed him as though she actually wanted to eat him. He groped for her shoulder, rested a hand there, and it gave him just enough balance to come in Teresa’s mouth without falling on top of her.

The orgasm seemed to last an eternity, his eyes squeezed shut, moans lost between Camila’s lips just as his spend was lost between Teresa’s. But as exhausted, nearly delirious as he was, he shifted back enough to let his dick fall from Teresa’s mouth so she could swallow and breathe again. And through it all, Camila supported him, kept him from tumbling over, helped him off the table and into her chair. She kissed him again and smiled down at Teresa, wiped something from the corner of Teresa’s mouth with her thumb.

“Well done, both of you,” Camila said, sauntering around to the other side of the desk. She picked up James’s jeans and tossed them to him. “You can go now.”

James was used to being dismissed by Camila like this, whether or not he liked it, and if Teresa had any feelings about it, they didn’t show on her stoic face. He pulled on boxers and jeans, figured he’d grab his boots, put them on later. Teresa hesitated, but sat up, brushed the hair from her face as she looked at Camila from the corner of her eye. She finally slid off the table once James picked up his boots and nodded his head for her to follow him out.

They said nothing as they walked down the hall, but when they came to the cross hallway where Teresa made to turn left and go back to her bed, he pulled her right and around a corner, back into a nook made by a utility closet. Her eyes were wide, lips parted, but she didn’t shout or say anything, and she welcomed his mouth when it pressed against hers. She was still hungry, hadn’t gotten what she needed the way he had. He dropped his boots, pressed his hand hard between her legs, listened to her moan.

“Do you want this?” James whispered against her neck, praying her answer would be yes so he could finally make her happy.

She didn’t speak, only opened her jeans enough so he could push a hand inside.

Teresa was wet, incredibly fucking wet, and he wouldn’t be satisfied until he made her more so. He slipped two fingers inside her and she moaned against his throat. He worked them in and out, slowly then faster as she clung tighter and tighter around his neck. His fingers slick, he rubbed them around and over her clit, and she trembled. She kept getting close, so close, he could feel it in her grip on his shoulders, but he couldn’t tip her over the edge.

“What can I do,” he said in her ear, lips brushing skin. “Tell me. I’ll do anything.”

She looked at him, wanted to say something, he could tell, but she hesitated. He flicked his finger over the exact spot she seemed to like best, sending her head back with another moan. He did it again and again, and he thought maybe he wouldn’t need to do anything else, that he had found what pleased her. But then she took his other hand, sucked his index finger into her mouth, then pushed it down the back of her panties.

Working her front and back now, she soon trembled so much he had to hold her up by pinning her body against the wall with his own. She hid her face in his neck and soon she was moaning, yelling, biting him to stifle the sounds coming from her. Her orgasm shuddered through her, and he wanted to make it last forever, and he pressed everywhere she reacted most, so she kept coming and coming until she bit him so hard, he thought she broke the skin.

“Enough. Enough,” she panted.

He shifted his hands away from where she was most sensitive. He wanted to hold her, pet her, kiss her, but his hands were a mess, his face a disaster. He thought she sensed this, pressed her lips lightly to his chin. “I need to go clean up. So do you,” she said.

He stepped back, and she did up her jeans. Without another word, her face as impassive as ever, she walked around him, back toward her bed behind the chain link fence. He’d been dismissed a second time. He didn’t mind.


End file.
